


rather be causing the chaos

by biochemprincess



Series: home is [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3608607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biochemprincess/pseuds/biochemprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becoming whole again is a process of hide and seek, of searching and finding.<br/>(And it starts with admitting you are broken in the first place.)</p>
<p>(about jemma and the person she once was and the one she could be.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	rather be causing the chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part 2 of what should've been a short one-shot once (ha!). 
> 
> Title once again taken from the lyrics of 'Home' by Gabrielle Aplin.
> 
> My biggest thanks go to imperfectlychaotic for beta-ing and cheerleading. :))

**from:**  Fitz  
**to:**  Jemma

_Do you know if we have the  
valerian pills anywhere?_

**from:**  Jemma  
**to:**  Fitz

                                                                       _Try the old bus._  


**from:**  Jemma   
**to:**  Fitz

                                                                 __Found them?_  
_Is everything alright?__

**from:**  Fitz  
**to:**  Jemma

_Yeah._  
_Skye has some trouble_  
controlling her powers.  
_I wanted to try something soft first._

**from:**  Jemma   
**to:**  Fitz

                                                                       _Oh. Soft is good._  
_Lavender is helpful too._  
_  
_

**from:**  Fitz  
**to:**  Jemma

_I'll try that too.  
Thanks. _

**from:**  Jemma   
**to:**  Fitz

                                                                       _Let me know if it works. :)_

**fr** **om:**  Fitz  
**to:**  Jemma

_It worked.  
A little :)_

 

* * *

  
Becoming whole again is a process of hide and seek, of searching and finding.

(And it starts with admitting you are broken in the first place.)

 

 

Sometimes it's beautiful.

Then it's like relearning a language you once knew, but forgot along the way. There's nothing left anymore, no spelling or grammar rules, just the taste of familiar words against your tongue.

Then it's like remembering the smell of lilac flowers in a field of grass, the touch of paper thin petals on your fingertips, the soft pulse of your heart underneath your skin.

Sometimes it's ugly.

Then it's like tending injuries, like open wounds and open hearts and open souls, bleeding bleeding bleeding.

Then it's like breaking bones in already fractured places, scars on your skin forming a map of where you've been.

 

 

It's all about balance. About knowing what to give up and what to hold on to.

(There's no clear line.)

 

* * *

 

If there had been an award for perfect timing, Jemma would have been its first recipient. Her punctuality had been one of her greatest virtues during her childhood years and way beyond. Her timing had always been on point and yes, she'd prided herself with it.

But then she'd become a part of Coulson's team and suddenly timing was the only thing not in her cards anymore. Suddenly it was always the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong kind of people. All of her steps were always out of sync.

And once again the timing is anything but perfect. She'd managed to fall asleep rather quickly tonight and without being tormented by a nightmare for a change.

But loud banging on the door to her apartment and JARVIS' computer voice wake her ruggedly. Jemma's mostly awake by the time she opens the door and finds Natasha in front of it. It seems to be becoming some sort of habit.

She's dressed in tank top, black jeans and a leather jacket - all of it in black. There's something about her attitude that makes Jemma wary, the way her eyes search for something. 

"Bruce is not here."

"I know."

"You're the only person in the tower who is anything close to a doctor."

Her blood runs cold. Hearing those words are never an indication that anything good is about to happen.

"Is somebody hurt?"

Natasha nods. "I wouldn't ask, if it wasn't important. Could you do me the favour?"

"I'm just going to change into something decent, okay?" Jemma gestures down her pyjama - an old grey shirt from Cambridge and shorts with little cats on them.

"Of course. We'll be waiting for you in the common living room."

 

*

 

The sight of Captain America on the couch, bruised and battered, takes her breath away for a second. An aura of hopelessness and exhaustion surrounds him, spreading across the whole room.

He looks nothing like the man on Coulson's set of vintage cards, nothing like a hero.  
  
(But then she had once been smiling for the photo on her SHIELD badge and where is this girl now?)

He looks at her closely, doubt clouding his already tired eyes.

"Who is she?"

"I'm Jemma Simmons. I work for --- " The answer dies on her lips. She doesn't think it's smart to mention SHIELD, as she doesn't know how much he knows about the rebuilding of the organisation he took down.

(She also doesn't know if she's still working for SHIELD anyway.)

"You can trust her, Steve." Natasha steps in and saves her from giving a more specific answer. They seem to be trusting each other, as he visibly relaxes at Natasha's intervention. 

"Can I?" Jemma ask for permission and he lets her take a closer look at his face. His left eye is already swelling up into a nasty bruise. There are various cuts, some deeper than others, but they're only grazing the surface for the most part. His cheek bone is probably cracked. There are superficial wounds spread all over his body.

"Can I leave you two alone together? I need to make some calls." Natasha asks and they both nod in agreement.

"May I ask you what happened?" Jemma asks, after Nat leaves. 

"I tried to find my friend."

"And did you find him?"

Rogers remains silent for a few heartbeats. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Physically yes. He's the one behind --- this." His fingers gingerly tap the area around the flesh wound on his right tight. "But it wasn't him. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. Bet you've seen the news."

Of course Jemma knows about The Winter Soldier. She'd read many of the files Natasha had dumped on the internet to expose HYDRA. But she hadn't seen the news back then, hadn't had the time. 

"I haven't. There were things more important. But I know enough."

Jemma gets herself a first-aid kit and other necessary equipment from the lab and prepares everything on the coffee table next to them. She doesn't want to move Rogers and he doesn't look like he could move in his state. If a blank page had a face, it would be his. There is nothing left inside him.

(She feels painfully reminded of what people must see when they look at her.)

"I've heard your name before. People talk about you." he suddenly says into the silence.

"People?" Jemma can hardly believe that anyone knows her name, as she is technically not existing.

"Hmm. They say you are a hero."

"I'm not a hero."

"You saved your friend from the bottom of the ocean, didn't you?"

Jemma stops in her tracks, grateful she doesn't look at him right then. How he knows about this is a mystery to her, but she doesn't care that much to be honest. If she'd like to talk about she would. She doesn't, so she keeps quiet.

"Trust me, it was the other way around. Now hold still."

She does her job in silence afterwards, both of them not willing to share their stories yet. Then she dismisses him, telling him to rest, to take it slow.

(He won't listen to her, she knows. This is about his best friend. He won't let him go without a fight.

She understands.)

 

* * *

 

**from:** Lance  
**to:** Jemma

_Are you still in the States_  
_or did you go back home?_

**from:** Jemma  
**to:** Lance

                                                                      _Are you betting again?_  
_You guys have a problem._

**from:**  Lance  
**to:**  Jemma

_No details to outsiders. Sorry._  
_Where are you?_

**from:**  Jemma   
**to:**  Lance

                                                                _I'm not allowed to share my position_  
_with outsiders. Sorry._  
_What did you put your money on?_

**from:**  Lance  
**to:**  Jemma

_Come on, Simmons._  
_Said you're still here._  
_You wouldn't really leave us._

**from:**  Jemma   
**to:**  Lance

                                                                      _You can tell them that I'm still in the US._  
_May will verify._  
_Congrats on your win._  
_Thanks. :)_

 

* * *

 

"I know how she got to know him, but how did she wrap him around her little finger?"

"Are you jealous, Stark?"

"No. No way. It's --- He's never shown any kind of affection to anybody, save for you maybe. Does everybody fall in love with her right from the start?"

"You did too. And maybe he just doesn't like you."

Jemma overhears Tony's and Natasha's conversation by accident.

She spends more and more time in the common kitchen as time passes by. She didn't want to be part of their team, not really. They can do well without her being an intruder. It also feels like betraying her team, the one she left behind at the playground. Jemma knows she's not to blame for this. But she can't change the way she feels.

(It took her long enough to accept none of this is her fault. She feels a lot better since she gives herself this little victory.)

It's a little awkward at first, but it gets better. And as she finds Tony and Natasha sitting at the kitchen island, tablet and book in front of them respectively, she's not shy to join them.

Their chat doesn't seem occur in privacy and curiosity gets the better of her. "What's happening?"

"You got a present." Stark mocks.

"Me?"

Jemma's a little puzzled, but she follows their gazes across the room nonetheless. There is a huge fish tank standing on the dining table, with lots of little fish swimming in them. It reminds her a little of the aquarium from 'Finding Nemo'.

"Who --- ?"

"Read the note, teacher's pet."

She walks over to the tank, takes the post- it note from the glass and into her hands. Her eyes skip over the words, as her heart tries to match the heartbeat of a hummingbird.

 

_'_ _Welcome to the Avengers Initiative, Agent Simmons._

_\- Fury_

_P.S: You might want to share this with Agent Fitz.'_

 

"When he says 'you might want to share' he actually means 'he won't buy a second fish tank, he's Nick Fury and not the welfare'. " Natasha clarifies and she can barely hide her amusement. No, she doesn't even try to hide. "Maybe he also wants you two to start talking again, but I don't know that for sure."

"I didn't get a fish tank." Tony mumbles under his breath.

"We saved your life. Be thankful."

"He saved her life too. And on top of that she gets a fish tank. That's not fair."

"Are you sure you don't know Lance Hunter?" Jemma says more to herself than him, because she can't believe it and has to deflect from the note in her hands.

"Yep, pretty sure, Simmons."

She turns to Natasha, confusion certainly written all over her face. "But why?"

Nat shrugs. "Nick likes you." she says, before focusing her attention on her book again.

Jemma takes a closer look at the tank and its inhabitants, stupidly smiling to herself. She loves fish, she had even had one at home when she'd been younger. Though it is beyond her comprehension how Fury knows that. Maybe he knows because he is Nick Fury. She wouldn't be surprised.

Within seconds she pulls her phone out of her pocket, taking a few pictures and sending them to Fitz. And for the first time in many months she is truly happy. 

 

* * *

 

_She was falling, drowning, breaking, vanishing._

_And it was May who pulled her back from the abyss in the end._

_She caught her leaving the lab in the middle of the night. Her expression wasn't condemning, only worry lined her face. It pained Jemma to know, that she was the source of it. She didn't want to cause her any problems at all. Nobody should have to worry about her._

_"What do you need?"_

_"I don't need anything, I'm fine."_

_"You might have become a better liar, but you can't fool me."_

_"I just need some time, I think."_

_"You do what you need to do."_

_Jemma picked on her finger nails, by force of habit. She nodded. She knew._

_Which was the main problem, wasn't it? She knew the solution to her problems, knew how to end her misery._ _Ariadne's thread was already in her hands, she only had to follow it to find the way out of the labyrinth now._

_"I can't leave. Not again."_

_"I know you love them." May kept her eyes on Jemma, making sure she's listening, really understanding what she's saying. "But sometimes you have to love yourself more."_

_(Ariadne became an immortal goddess only after she betrayed her brother.)_

 

* * *

  
When she meets Jane Foster it just clicks.

The scientist is a fountain of wisdom and insight to the universe, she has rarely ever seen before. Jemma likes her, likes the way Jane talks about the stars and far away galaxies with fascination in her voice and warmth in her eyes.

(It reminds her of a former version of herself. The woman she once was.)

But that's not the only reason she likes her. Jane very well knows what it means when what you love, starts to kill you, when suddenly everything you do endangers your life and the ones surrounding you.

Jane understands what it means when a nameless agency takes all your work away. Jemma apologizes for Coulson's behaviour more than once, though she didn't even know him back then. But it seems like the right thing to do, from what she's telling her he acted like the greatest douche on earth.

"Can I ask you something, just out of curiosity?"

Jemma nods.

"What does Stark want from you? I saw the daring looks throughout the day."

The sigh that escapes her throat is eternal and she rolls her eyes in a reflex. Tony is a child at heart, she really needs him to meet Lance one day.

"He wants me to try lifting Mjolnir. He's under the impression it will improve his life somehow, if he's seen me try it."

"Does he think you can lift it?"

She ponders over the question for a few seconds. "I have no idea what he expects, to be honest. And of course I cannot lift it, I've read enough about the mythology behind it to know I'm not worthy."

"Maybe you'd be surprised." Jane muses, but Jemma shakes her head defensively.

"No, I really don't think so. Can you lift it?"

"I can't. But I'm not you."

 

*

 

Jane's words don't leave her.

It's the silliest thing she's done in a long time. But there she is, standing in front of Thor's hammer, trying to find the courage to even touch it. Moonlight is shining through the huge glass windows, casting everything in an otherworldly glow.

Mjolnir seems to be just waiting for her.

Jemma takes a few deep breaths, before closing her eyes. She wraps her hands around the shaft and pulls.

The hammer feels heavy in her hands and she almost drops it out of surprise. Familiar sound of thunder echoes through the room and she's shrouded by an invisible cloud of electricity. 

She is standing there and staring down at the hammer in her hands, unsure of what to do with it.

"Jarvis?"

"Dr. Simmons?"

"Please don't tell anybody."

 

*

 

Thor waits for her in the lab the following morning, a proud smile on his lips. 

"Congratulations, Jemma Simmons. Your feat has not passed unnoticed."

"I had hoped it would." 

"But why? In all my life no one has ever proven to be worthy of lifting Mjolnir. You are a queen among mortals, as intelligent as my dear Jane." 

Her head shoots up at his compliment. This is not how she expected an eventual conversation to happen. Not at all.

"You are not mad?"

"Mad? I would be a fool to punish you for the virtues that honour you."

She almost starts crying there and then. It's been so long since she's been anything but a means to an end, more than a collateral damage. 

"Did I upset you, Lady Jemma? It wasn't my intention to."

"No, no. I'm fine. A tad too emotional, maybe."

"Let me reassure you, that you did nothing wrong. If you'd let me, I'd be like to show you Mjolnir's workings."

Jemma beams at him. "I'd love that."

 

* * *

 

You take soap and water, rinsing away the blood sticking to your hands.

(You're still dirty.)

You pour disinfectants over your head, baptizing yourself in the fluid.

(It doesn't work.)

You turn up the heat, remove everything that's not supposed to be you.

(Some materials need to be handled with care, but not you, not anymore.)

You are on fire, walking through the flames alive.

(You are forged from iron, you come out stronger on the other side.)

(This is how you survive.)

 

* * *

  
They decide to get wasted on a Thursday night.

It's not really a deliberate decision, but after Jemma tells them that she hadn't gone out since she started to work for Coulson almost two years ago, they decide to grab a drink and somehow end up in what's probably the shadiest bar in Manhattan. There are little customers and Jemma wouldn't have entered it alone in a million years, but the companionship feels nice and most important: normal.

It's not the whole Avengers team - Bruce is still travelling abroad and Steve doesn't feel like it - but the rest of them are here with her.

Clint gets them enough tequila shots to get a herd of elephants drunk. "Trust me, Thor has an alcohol tolerance that's not from this world."

Jemma raises an eyebrow at his bad joke. "That one was abysmal. Just wait until you've seen me."

And the look on his and Tony's face as she downs shot after shot is worth it.

"You are a true goddess of thunder, Lady Jemma. I am proud to call you my equal." Thor pats her on the back and the force is enough to almost send her over the bar. Natasha is almost rolling on the floor laughing.

Hours pass and Jemma suddenly finds herself discussing the benefits of two almost identical chemicals with Tony, to the point she wants to throw a glass against his head. Nobody could be so wrong.

Jemma had always been like this when she was drunk. During her Academy years, Fitz had had to hold her back in Boiler Room on more than one occasion. The liquor loses her tongue, bringing out the worst inside her.

Fitz. Who still doesn't really talk to her. Who lied to her. Who is at the Playground when she is not. Who was her best friend once.

Anger is bubbling up from beneath her, breaking free from the chains it had been held back by. The alcohol is the key to those chain locks, unveiling all the restrained emotions in the deep corners of her mind. She dials the number, carved into the walls of her heart. The soft rings are drowned out by the noise of the music, so she walks to the little hallway that leads to the toilets.

"Jemma? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, we need to talk."

"It's in the middle of the night, I don't think ---" His voice sounds drowsy, like she just woke him up. Which she probably did.

"No! I want to talk about this right now! We need to talk, Leo!"

"What is there to talk about?" He is more alert now. The use of his first name always has this effect. "You left us! Again!"

She hears the 'us' and substitutes it with a 'me'. Because this is what it boils down to, right?

"Is that the only thing you care about? Yes, I left! But do you know why I left?"

Jemma pauses, but it's not to give him time to answer. She just needs a moment to find the answer herself.

"Because I was making you worse! I left because I'm not good for you. For any of you! I left because it's the only thing I could actually do to help! I left because it feels like I'm falling apart and I don't know how to stop it. I left, because I need to save myself too!"

She doesn't know when she started crying and hyperventilating. She only knows that her voice is too loud and her sobs are too broken, knows that she said too much in a haze of drunken bravery. She knows that the tequila opened Pandora's box and she probably not worthy of Mjolnir anymore.

She knows, she needs to get out of here right now.

Fitz' voice shouts from somewhere in the distance, but his words are nonsense, a white-noise filling her head. Everything happens so slow and so fast and simultaneously and it's not real. Red hair and a soft touch and suddenly she doesn't hold her phone anymore.

"Simmons needs a moment. She'll call you back."

The cold air against her heated skin feels like a slap in the face. Her legs don't want to support her anymore and she slides down on the floor, her back against the brick wall, finally breathing again.

Natasha sits down next to her, taking her hands in hers.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Jemma shakes her head. She is voiceless, energy still draining from her.

There's nothing left inside her anymore. She is a hollow shell, but she is not broken.

The realization hits her like a freight train. 

She is not broken.

She may fall down, but she'll always get up again. No matter what happens, she won't let herself be hurt again. The fact is so comforting, it's like watching the sun rising after a long winter, warmth spreading all over. Maybe it's also the tequila in her guts.

Natasha squeezes her hand gently, way ahead of her inner thoughts.

"I'm going to be alright." Jemma says, sure of herself.

"Yes, you are. You are one of the bravest persons I've ever had the fortune to meet. You are going to survive."

And the stars above her only shined for her that night, even if she couldn't see them all. They were there and they were watching.

Everything would be alright.

 

* * *

 

The phone. The phone on the table. The ringing, vibrating phone lies on the table. And it doesn't stop ringing.

Jemma stares at it, tries to find out if she wants to accept the call. She can see it's Fitz calling.

If she is completely honest, she doesn't want to. The call a few nights ago had left her exhausted. She is glad to have it out of her system, glad he has to think about all those things too. But picking up the phone would mean that they have to talk it out. Again.

And she doesn't think she's ready.

On the other hand, this could be step in the right direction, a way to finally reconnect their wires. Because now that she has accepted what she's become, every step is a little easier.

"Hi Fitz."

"Jemma ---"

"We really should work on our communication."

"I know, Jemma. And I'm sorry. But now is not a good time. There's - something happened. It's Skye."

 

* * *

 

_to be continued_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. As always feedback is very much appreciated. :)  
> You can also find me @ mightyjemma.tumblr.com


End file.
